


5 Times Portia Means to Say “I Love You” (And the One Time Nadia Does)

by full_ofstarlight



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-04-19 20:19:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14244984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/full_ofstarlight/pseuds/full_ofstarlight
Summary: A gift for the Arcana Secret Santa! Have some Portia x Nadia, featuring my favorite trope “seemingly unrequited longing.” This gets kinda emo but ends on some nice fluff, I promise.





	5 Times Portia Means to Say “I Love You” (And the One Time Nadia Does)

## I.

It is a hot day, a busy one, a garden party in the palace for nobility. The crowds arrive before Nadia joins them and they wander the grounds.  
The grounds are set up so that with each turn, there is something new to discover—a musician playing underneath one of the low hanging trees, an acrobat twirling up above in the branches, dancers weaving between flower beds, a fountain of lemonade near the actual fountain, a collection of light flaky pastries served by women in flowing gowns.  
Every detail has been perfectly curated, down to the circling patterns on Nadia’s bodice.  
Nadia sits now, hands folded on her lap, posture straight. Portia runs a comb through her hair. As she brushes, tugging a little hard (Nadia’s hair is thick and sometimes catches on the teeth of the comb and Portia always gasps, but Nadia does not do more than inhale a mite sharper than usual).  
“Tell me, Portia,” Nadia says, her eyes on a distant spot on the mirror, staring at something that Portia cannot see herself. “Would these nobles even notice if I did not attend my own party?” She ends with a chuckle that turns into a sigh and her gaze is more removed than before.  
“What do you mean, milady?” Portia asks.  
Nadia lets out a laugh that is more of a sharp exhale.  
“They are not here for me,” she sneers, her lip curling up slightly. “They are here for the fine food and a chance to dress up and show off and to look at beautiful things that I provided for them.” She looks at the mirror, crimson gaze stony. “They do not care whether I am there or not—only that they have a marvelous time.”  
“M’lady—you’ve planned this gathering for months, I’m sure they’ll love to see you—”  
“Oh, Portia, you flatter me.” Nadia stands up, stretching her arms to the side, as if she were about to take flight. She looks up at something, her gaze far off. Portia stares. Nadia wears a beautiful white gown with swirling patterns in darker shades that twist and turn only when the light catches them properly, golden bracelets circling her arms. Portia feels her breath catch and she wants to tell Nadia that she needn’t attend the party if she does not want to, that Portia would love to just spend the evening up here and they can watch the festivities below and share a private sphere to themselves and—  
“Well then, shall we brave the masses?” says Nadia, and she turns to Portia and not a trace of that hesitation is on her face anymore. It is unwavering and beautiful, like a carefully sculpted piece of art.  
“Of course, milady.”  


## II.

In the night time, Nadia calls for her.  
A guard raps on her cottage door, and Portia stumbles out of bed and lights a candle, following the guard back to the palace, up the winding stairs, to Nadia’s bed chamber.  
“What’s wrong, milady?” she asks, immediately kneeling down and reaching to press a hand to Nadia’s forehead.  
Nadia catches her hand before she can do so and Portia feels her cheeks burn, thankful that in the candlelight, everyone is washed in an orange glow.  
“I had another nightmare,” says Nadia, and she laces her fingers through Portia’s. “I dreamt I lost you, Portia, and there was the smell of smoke, curling in my nostrils like a vicious snake. I saw you walking away from me. I cried out and you did not look back—”  
“You’re burning up, milady,” says Portia, who has managed to touch Nadia’s forehead with her other hand. Nadia’s words still ring in her ear and she feels her heart thump and thump, catching in her throat and planting itself there. She is afraid that if Nadia speaks more on the subject, her heart will spill over and she will say things that she should not say.  
Nadia clutches her hand tighter. In the dim light, her eyes are wide and she looks so small.  
“Fetch me some water, Portia,” she says, turning her face away, looking up at the ceiling. “And—stay Portia. I need you tonight.”  


## III. 

Once, at dinner, Counsel Valerius makes a comment that verges the line of incredibly stupid at both his expense and also the person he is attempting to insult.  
Portia is standing near the door to the kitchens and struggles not to burst into laughter. She catches Nadia’s eye and notices the Countess’s mouth twisted in a little smirk, which widens as she notices Portia.  


## IV.

Nadia is riding one day and Portia stands on the veranda, waiting with water for the Countess should she grow thirsty.  
When Nadia starts, she sits up tall and straight, hands tight on the reins, not looking out of place with the court or the palace or any of garden topiaries and sculptures. But she pushes the horse to a faster trot, leaning forward, the wind brushing through her hair as the horse leaps, and when Portia sees her face, she sees a wide smile, a braid that whips behind Nadia, and eyes crinkled in laughter that would shatter against the garden mosaics and sculptures and carefully manicured lawns.  
The horse slows again and Nadia circles round to where Portia is, her face stoic again, lips in a calm smile which pulls up wider as she draws nearer.  


## V.

A magician comes to the palace and as dinner is served, Portia watches, her eyes flickering from the stranger to Nadia, when Nadia announces just why she has brought this stranger here—  
The bottle Portia is holding slams to the floor.  
She feels her heart clench, but apologies and kneels down to clean it up.  
You do not need this, Portia wants to say. And not just because I don’t want Ilya to die—you don’t need to do this. The people will love you, milady, they will love you like I love you. You don’t have to do this—  
But she says nothing and just picks up the shards that scatter across the floor.  


## (VI.)

There is a smell of smoke, but it does not curl in Nadia’s nostril’s like a snake, but instead—it comes from a burning fire in the parlor and Nadia sits.  
“You sent for me, milady?”  
Nadia turns to see Portia peering into the room, hands folded together. Nadia’s smile grows and she gestures towards Portia.  
“Come, come, sit with me, Portia,” she says, tapping a spot on the divan.  
“Oh!” (Portia looks so charming when she blushes like that, Nadia thinks, and it flushes all across her cheeks and her mouth widens in a little ‘o’) “Um—of course, milady.”  
Nadia lets out a chuckle as Portia sits down next to her, all prim and proper, unlike Nadia, who is lounging with her legs outstretched. In the firelight, they are cast in an orange glow, hitting the auburn of Portia’s hair and the crimson of Nadia’s eyes.  
(Just like the night she dreamed of me leaving, Portia thinks, and her heart stammers and stutters and she cannot keep it still).  
Nadia looks at Portia, tilting her head to the side, the faint traces of a smile on her lips, and she reaches a hand to brush a strand of Portia’s hair away from her face. Portia’s cheeks color even more.  
“Is this alright, Portia?” Nadia asks and she can feel her own heart thump harder. Portia’s cheek is warm beneath her fingers and she brushes a thumb over that blooming blush.  
“Y-yeah—I mean, yes, milady,” Portia says breathlessly.  
“You look so cute when you blush, Portia,” says Nadia, and she lets out an airy laugh, but it fades away as she darts her eyes to the fireplace. “Oh—Portia—what would I do without you? There is not a soul within these walls I trust nearly as much as I trust you. You always know just what I need and you are always there for me…” She sighs. “I am afraid I do not often open myself up to people and yet…you’ve found your way inside, Portia and I need to tell you. Right now.” She looks back towards Portia, crimson gaze fixed. “Portia—oh, forgive my emotion, you know this is not typical of my behavior and—"  
“I love you too,” Portia blurts out and immediately covers her mouth and Nadia stares and stares and then leans forward, brushing away Portia’s fingers and kissing her on the lips.  
“Milady!” says Portia, pulling away. “I’m—I didn’t mean—”  
“Oh, darling,” says Nadia, reaching to cup Portia’s face towards her. “You always do know just what I need.”  
This time, Portia kisses her.


End file.
